Just a quick update before Halloween, things will take off soon, promise! :)

The keys jingled in her hands, as Emma awkwardly jammed them into the door while precariously balancing her over packed bag on her other shoulder. Jones had offered to carry it for her, but Emma Swan did not need help with something trivial like that, no thank you. And she had let him know as much immediately when she had firmly turned him down, steadily pushing past him and walking up to the door.

Upon entering and turning on the light switch to her right, the first thing that Emma noted (with a slight pang) was that the place appeared to be rather primitive, and quite bare. What must have been, once upon a time, stark white walls, were now naught but a decaying grey wallpaper, parts in the corners already peeling off (and she prayed to the gods above that nothing was hiding behind it) and what probably amounted to a few months of dust gathered up in the far ends of the ceiling. She had the stomach for a lot of things, but slimy bugs cowering away in what was to be her home for the near future wasn't one of them.

"Charming place." Jones commented from beside her, as he set his bag down onto the table, taking a moment to cast a weary glance around the narrow apartment rom.

There truly wasn't much to see, and for a moment, and Emma wondered why she'd even been expecting any better in the first place. This wasn't some commonly used place, it wasn't a home people lived in, it was just a small place where the CIA could send agents to crash down in, a temporary thin the higher placed members would never dare to use. No wonder it didn't look like much: four small rooms (and even at that, Emma hesitated to label them as such) including a tiny kitchen, what she supposed was to be labeled as the "living area" (which was more like an old-looking sofa, a coffee table and the most ugly curtains she had ever laid eyes on framing the window), one bedroom and a very narrow bathroom.

Lovely, Emma thought sourly. Now she really hoped this case would be over and done with quickly, she rather missed her own apartment very much right now.

"I guess I'll be taking this room then, you take the one next to the kitchen." Emma said, as she stopped in front of the narrow door next to the bathroom, of a mind she'd rather pick her room now and be done with it than be left with a second choice. "I'll be back out in a bit, just need to unpack."

And with that she was off, shutting the bedroom door just a little too tightly, but if she were honest, Emma didn't really pay attention to that. The fact was, she was finally alone and in a quiet space, and, more importantly, she finally had a moment to breathe.

Emma had initially hoped that meeting up with the British end of the team would actually lead to some answers and shed some more light on the situation, she'd hoped that anything she'd get the chance to listen on to while there would clarify the little bits of information Nolan had been willing to share with her beforehand. Instead, the whole affair now seemed even more of a convoluted mess and to top thins off, she was stuck with what was bound to be an irritating work partner.

And Emma could safely say she didn't do well with being copped up with work partners.

No, she was not looking forward to this at all.

At least for now, she could safely make the most of the next ten minutes in the room, by herself. And Emma fully intended on making the most of those ten minutes, namely, collapsing onto the bed, which was the first priority. Her aching feet no longer baring her weight, it was a relief indeed to be able to rest up for a moment, and begin to look through her own bag as she went.

Emma made sure to take her time, to nicely fold everything back up and awkwardly reach to the socket at the other side of the bed to plug in her laptop, anything really that would delay the inevitable fact that at some point, she would have to go back to the main room. She just wasn't ready to face that yet, not while she still had a little sanctuary in her very own bedroom.

She liked being alone, or at least, she'd grown used to it –what with being through several foster homes but never managing to stay there, Emma had long ago learnt that it was better to be by herself and not let anyone in, it limited the damage, so to speak. Sure, August and Leroy were nice colleagues, people she knew she could rely on if the job ever demanded it, but they weren't… Well, friends. They weren't people she would hang out with on any ordinary day, they weren't people she could confide in, they were people Emma worked with to get the job done and nothing really beyond that. And that was okay in her books, Emma had learnt to get used to it, and she rather enjoyed whatever it was they had.

This however, this was different. She'd never shared a place with either of them, and now having to do so with a total stranger (and not one she was very impressed with so far), Emma could feel the creeping anxiety rise in the pits of her stomach already. She didn't want this, to be stuck with someone she would undoubtedly have to open up to at some point or another (because she strongly doubted that going on without so much as a word exchanged between them once they made it back to the safe house every evening for three weeks would be remotely possible) and as she folded one of her few shirts and neatly put it with the others in the small chest of drawers beneath the window, Emma hopes that this would be over with soon. She really couldn't wait to get back to a normal routine.

"Swan?"

And there it was, the fatal knock on the door forcing her back into the last place she wanted to be in right now.

"Yes?" She called out, zipping her bag shut and turning around just in time for the door to open.

"I made tea, if you want any?" Jones asked, pointing back to the couch and coffee table, where he must have set the food down. Emma hadn't really entertained the thought of really eating anything before heading off for the night, but the thought of having something warm rift then override her desire to be alone, and she found herself nodding. Sharing a meal with him couldn't be that bad.

"Sure, just give me a minute?"

He backed off immediately, and for a moment, Emma swore she heard him say something along the lines of "As you wish" but after a moment of reflection, pinned it on her overtired brain imagining things, because work colleagues simply didn't talk like that to one another and she doubted it was some trademark phrase used among her British cousins. From what she'd gathered of the other agent, Frost certainly hadn't seemed to be the kind of person who would use such vocabulary at any rate.

Picking up one of the dark sweaters she'd brought along, Emma slipped it on as she made her way back to the couch, and the distinct smell of butter did not go unnoticed. How did the guy even cook anything without me-?

Jones hadn't made tea.

Or, rather, he had, just not the tea Emma had expected him to. Because the steaming mug and slice of buttered toast on the plate beside it wasn't exactly what Emma usually labeled as 'tea'.

"Problem, Swan?"

"No, um, no, not really. It's just that, well, when you said tea, I didn't really mean-" She awkwardly gestured to the mug on the table. It wasn't that Emma didn't appreciate the gesture (to be quite frank, she was rather chilly herself and wasn't averse to something warm) just, well tea wasn't something she usually made a habit of taking. "Thanks though." She wasn't about to turn it down though, and the nice warmth it sent spreading through her hands was definitely worthwhile. Maybe it wouldn't taste the nicest, but at least it would stave off the cold for a while.

"Have you got any more paperwork on the case? Anything Mills might have given you so we can get a head start?"

Killian shook his head "Nothing much really. Mills wasn't the most forthcoming when Frost asked her for further detail, probably means it's either confidential or she had info she wasn't certain of, and Mills is usually someone who likes it better when we work on hard evidence."

Understandable, Emma thought.

Jones took another sip out of the mug before putting it down, and the cryptic look he gave her made Emma feel slightly uncomfortable. Neither said anything for a while, each one too busy judging the other, no doubt trying to get a feel for what their partner was like and uncover anything they might deem useful in their set of hidden skills, but for someone like Emma, who took a certain amount of pride in an agent with extremely well built walls, the fact that she could feel that this work-partner (mostly a stranger to her still) could see past that and deep into what Emma Swan was at her core, this was definitely not something she had signed up for. She was here for a case, not for a psycho-analysis.

Quickly switching her gaze back to the mug in her hands, Emma brought it up to her mouth, sipping probably more than what was necessary, but it meant that the conversation was momentarily stopped and that she had a moment for herself, which was a relief. She knew she wasn't someone who had an easy time adapting to a new work partner (it had taken a long time before catching up with August had become somewhat of a daily routine, and for the man himself to become someone Emma knew for sure she could rely on) and while making small talk with Jones was probably what was in her best interest right now if she wanted to get to know the guy –genuinely interested in him or not, Emma knew she had little choice, knowing him would be essential so they could effectively work together- it wasn't something she ever found easy.

Being rather reserved and one to keep to herself by nature, being dropped with someone so different and outspoken felt a little disconcerting to say the least, and being thrown off balance, into something completely unfamiliar was not something Emma was particularly fond of. And the fact that this guy might eventually overpass the bounds of mere collaboration because of their shared private space once they were off the rid made Emma nervous.

"How did someone like you end up working for the American secret services anyway?"

Talk about making her nervous, did he really have to go there?

"Excuse me?" And the indignant tone was definitely intentional, because that was not a question Emma felt Jones was entitled to ask her, at least, not yet. Hell, she'd only met him a few hours ago, and he was already snooping after personal history like that?

She didn't realize she'd leant quite back quite a bit, not until her back hit the side of the couch and Emma had no other choice than to bring her own plate back to her knees if she ever hoped to finish it, she was not about to uncurl from here after such a prying demand. Granted, she knew they were supposed to work together, as a team, and teammates rarely pulled away from each other, but this wasn't something she was ready to deal with right now, especially not with someone she didn't know and was not ready to open up to yet (if ever), and she hoped the defensive attitude would be enough for Jones to drop that kind of questions, or at least, opt to ask for something less personal.

He did have the decency to look slightly sorry though, Emma could give him that at least, but no way was that going to help him get under her skin. They were work partners and nothing more, and Emma certainly didn't judge it necessary for the job that she knew everything about him –nor did she really want to. It wasn't the kind of question she ever dealt with in her line of work anyway: who ever asked each other why they joined the service?

Nobody ever took the time for that, and the fact that Jones had… Well Emma wasn't too sure what to make of that yet, but she wasn't about to give into him. While she knew it probably wasn't the best to antagonize him on their first day,

"Why so interested?" She shrugged, as if unaffected in the hopes that her unwillingness to even broach the subject would mean he wouldn't try to pry any further. Besides, they were temporary colleagues, they weren't supposed to get to know each other beyond what was deemed professionally acceptable, and Jones knowing of her reasons behind picking up the job didn't seem to fit the description, at least in Emma's books.

"Just like to know who I'm working with." Jones shrugged, sipping form his mu again and opening the folder Mills and Nolan had given to them before their departure. "Anyway, what do you people know about Underworld so far?"

Well, to say that he was quick at changing the subject would be an understatement, but Emma honestly didn't mind, and was rather relieved of not having to find another topic herself. Given that they had another while at least before the need to turn in for the night would let itself be known, she guessed that getting a head start on the case would be as good an option to take as any, and if anything, it might save them some time tomorrow morning.

And it meant that she didn't have to deflect any questions relating to herself, which Emma didn't particularly want to broach with him anytime soon, so really, they were all winners here.

"Nothing much unfortunately, they were never the most forthcoming when it came to offering us hints of information about them."

Killian sighed –it was starting to look like they had just gotten themselves into one big mess, and one they were not bound to get to the bottom of anytime soon. Mills hadn't told either him or Elsa much before having them tag along, and only now getting the full picture of what he'd signed up for, he wasn't too sure he really wanted to be here at all – a small two-week mission, he wasn't averse to something like that, but he was quite certain that this can of worse would take much longer than that to debunk, and it was beginning to look like he was indeed going to have to miss out on being home in time for Liam's scheduled return.

Having a brother working for an tSeirbhís Chabhlaigh (*) was all well and good when it came to taking pride in Liam's occupation and when it came to paying the monthly bills –not that they were ever exorbitant, given that it was just the two of them and a small house they almost never occupied because of the types of jobs they had- but it also meant that he didn't see him much, the older Jones being stationed in Grangemouth quite frequently and him traipsing about London with Elsa and the rest of the team left very little for them to meet up, and it looked like Liam's return was something he'd be missing out on, again.

Killian looked back at the files, discarding the pages with prints of Humbert's ID and the dates of him joining the CIA -there probably wasn't much use in combing those files for any information on Underworld- instead, picking up the typed record of the conversation that had taken place between Nolan's asset, Queen, and the deceased agent.

"What about Hearts, how do you think they factor into all of this though? Looks like your Humbert guy had something to do with them, but there's no mention of Underworld linked to the name." He commented, handing her the sheet over.

Emma scanned it quickly, the name still not ringing any bell as far as she could remember, nor did it evoke any memories of any tidbits of knowledge she might have had from Dreamshade and Cassidy had certainly made no mention of them with her. Humbert had seemed to have judged it important enough to let them know about her though, and Emma doubted her fellow agent would have let a codename slide over a telephone conversation where anybody could pick it up if it wasn't important.

"I can put Frost onto it tomorrow, see if it will be any help. She's your computer engineer, right? Shouldn't be too difficult for her to access any extra information we might have on it. And at any rate, it'll give us somewhere to start."

"Aye, but what if Humbert got it wrong? If Hearts has nothing to do with Underworld and turns out to be a codename that amounts to nothing, we'll have ended up wasting our time and gotten nowhere, and judging by Nolan's tone, he seems to want this dealt with as soon as possible."

"You think these are two unrelated things? That Hearts might not have any connections?" Emma asked, curious now. She hadn't seen it like that at first, but if what Jones was saying was right, and that Hearts amounted up to a dead end, then they would be sure to lose out on valuable time, time that could be better spent looking into deeper facts.

"Well I'd rather not base our searches on ifs, maybes and buts, but it could do with some looking into on our part, just to make things clear."

Finding her eyes beginning to droop, Emma blinked several times, already beginning to feel the fatigue this case was bound to heap on her in the oncoming weeks, and brought her hand up, rubbing the bridge of her nose in annoyance. It wasn't so much the fact that she regretted taking up Nolan's call –not for the world would she miss an opportunity like this one- it was, simply put, the fact that it had been a split second decision on her part to accept it, and now finding herself knees deep in what was probably going to turn out to be one giant mess on top of having to share living quarters with a stranger and having to deal with it all at whatever ungodly hour this was, Emma wasn't too sure she was up for all that tonight.

Diving for another piece of toast, judging that it would be as good a means as any to stay awake a little loner, she picked the file apart once again –whether to avoid a direct conversation or to look for any more hints regarding Hearts, she wasn't too sure, but any distraction was welcome at this point- but there really wasn't much else for them to go on at this point: Humbert had been nothing more than an agent Nolan had used to get into contact with a drug group, and his death just so happened to have Underworld's prints over it, only visible trace left behind before they disappeared again, like ghosts. And usually, ghosts made it their goal to remain hidden, dismantling a hint of a group wasn't going to be an easy task, and whatever help she'd hoped Jones might be able to bring seemed to be short lived, as the other agent seemed about as clueless as she was on the whole thing.

Just wonderful, she thought sourly.

At least he can make decent toast.

"Well, for starters, how far would Humbert's safe house be from here? Perhaps there's more info at his place, things he might not have gotten enough time to relay back to your superior. From what I gather, his call to Queen was ended rather abruptly."

That was a way of putting thins mildly, Emma thought sourly, but Jones did have a point, Humbert's apartment could be as good a start point as any, and perhaps they would have to o through the place with a fine comb, but judging by how vicious Underworld had been to the agent in his last moments, any clue they could get their hands on would be welcome if it helped them.

"I'll get Queen's address from Nolan tomorrow too, if anybody's got a precise list of information he relayed back while he was alive, it's got to be her."

"You sure we should be involving her in this too? Isn't she just supposed to be an asset?" Kilian asked skeptically, rather of a mind that the less people they involved in this the better. It was one thing to ask information from one agent to another, it was another thing entirely to drag a civilian family into the drama, regardless of whether one of its members had formerly worked in the secret services. Granted, Nolan and Mills hadn't given them any restrictions when it came to getting to the bottom of this, meaning they could use fellow American citizens if the job required it, but interrogating one of them when the whole affair had next to nothing to do with their personal lives wasn't exactly what he'd signed up for.

"Oh so now you have limits?" Emma shot back, raising a dubious eyebrow. No, the idea of forcefully demanding information out of an ordinary person didn't particularly sit well with her either, but if it was the best chance they had at getting somewhere, Emma was damn well going to go down that road if need be, regardless of whether Jones' moral values coincided with the method or not. A few years ago, when Emma Swan had been nothing more than a mere rookie, maybe back then she might have questioned herself, judged how fair it was to drag someone into their investigations and have a thought for the emotional cost of it all, but that Emma was no longer the person who she was today. It had been a bitter pill to swallow, but Emma had witnessed firsthand how the job always came first, no matter the means they used to get there, and unfortunately, that had also included getting used to pushing her assets for as much information as possible, even if the process made them both uncomfortable. It was something she'd learnt long ago to go along with, and was something she'd come to terms with too. And it was odd to see how her previously laid-back and rather nonchalant partner was now questioning the methods their line of work restarted to.

Funny that, Emma wouldn't have labeled him as that type of person.

"It's more along the lines of what I'd label "Good Form", I do my job, but I have limits all the same, Miss Swan." And the smirk was definitely something Emma would label as smug.

"What would you know of goof form?" She shot back, between two bites of toast, already up for the challenge of proving him wrong –they probably weren't supposed to argue like teenagers over what was and what was not something one would define as respecting the lines of morality, but Emma was tired, and anything to take a break was rather welcomed at this point. "I apologize if I sound callous, but you don't exactly look like an agent who debates the ethics of one's choices when a case comes up."

"Oh I'd know more than you think, Swan." Swan's tone wasn't friendly, Killian had discerned as much, but it wasn't outright hostile either, it was rather something along the lines of her daring him to prove her wrong, and Killian always liked a challenge, especially one he was pretty certain of having the upper hand at. He could tell her about Liam, about the set of values he'd learnt upon joining the navy and how it had bled into their every-day lives, but he was rather averse to sharing something so personal with someone he barely knew, besides, Swan probably wasn't interested in anything like that either. And it had little to do with them solving the case anyway. "Suffice to say, I'm not up for pushing the asset more than she has to be, remember, she is a civilian at the end of the day, just one unlucky enough to be partly involved in all this."

Well, after a moment of reflection, she'd give him that one, Emma conceded. Maybe forcing Queen to speak wasn't their best option if they were set on retrieving as much information as possible, it was just the way Emma had learnt to go around things: if you wanted something, you were the one who had to get your hands dirty and push to get it. A lifetime spent looking out for herself because she knew nobody would do it for her had eventually ingrained such a thought process, a process which sometimes spread onto her work ethics and one that, after coming to terms with it a long while ago, Emma had learnt to rely on.

"Fine. We'll do it your way then, you should probably do the talking since you seem to enjoy it."

The tea, while she'd never made a habit of having a mug before heading off, was rather a nice way to finally unwind after the stress of the day. Granted Emma wasn't fooling herself, it would no doubt be back tomorrow and she would deal with it then all in good time, but right now, her shoulders sagging and the nice warmth she could feel spreading through her hands was probably better than any offerings of grilled cheese (and Emma Swan had a great fondness for grilled cheese).

"I bet we'll make quite the team, Swan."

She looked at him over the rim of her mug, not too sure whether Jones was being disturbingly earnest or simply sarcastic (and for someone who prided herself in being able to read people, it unsettled Emma quite a bit)

"Don't go soft now, from what Nolan said, these guys mean business." Deflection was always a trump card Emma knew she could use in awkward situations like these, when she didn't want to be honestly open (maybe someday, she might let someone in that deep, but not Jones, and certainly not right now), and instead, she settled for a casual rebuttal, seemed like it was the go-to way of talking to the Brit' without out rightly looking to offend him.

"Wouldn't dream of it, lass."

Forget what she'd just said, Emma wasn't about to take Jones seriously with that toothy grin anytime soon.

(*) an tSeirbhís Chabhlaigh is the maritime component of the Defence Forces of Ireland based in Haulbowline, County Cork.